Page 84 of Love, Nemesis
He couldn’t be certain he would behave the same way this time. He could make his moves on this side of sanity, but the hunger in his head would always get a say.
There was a lingering itch in the back of his mind, that eating darkness and wrestling human soul inside him both aching for some level of stability. He’d enjoyed being with Ana, Jasper, and Cal. If The Ocean got the best of him, he’d go right back to them. Ana especially. He resisted the idea of it, but he couldn’t denythe truth that when he imagined feeling grounded, centered, and focused, he imagined being with her. If he lost sight of those principles Manaj had trained into him, this time, he knew he wouldn’t be going to the mountains. The weakness of every Strike was the people they attached themselves to. He wondered if he’d already found that weakness through Ana. He wasn’t sure what that meant for either of their fates.
The stakes of the game were getting higher, and the higher the stakes got, the more the Strike in him wanted to play.
“You can’t expect me to let you go down there alone,” Cal said.
Jolted back into action, Lethe removed his lighter and bottle of oil, fixing it onto his belt. “I can expect you to slow me down if you don’t.”
Cal hopped off his horse, and Lethe followed suit. “Didn’t you used to be in teams?” he said. “How many of you survived something like this?”
“That’s exactly my point,” Lethe shot back. “Best-case scenario, there is a negotiation and I won’t risk you being offered up as collateral.”
“I thought Riders don’t negotiate with Strike,” Cal said. “That’s unusually…civil of you. Wait, what are you doing?”
Lethe undid the fold of his boots, pulling the fabric up over his knees before syncing the ends through his belt like riding chaps. “My fire-workers. Chances are things are going to get hot.”
“I thought you were going to negotiate?”
“I am,” Lethe said, lifting his lighter up to the sun to check the fluid before adjusting it on his belt. He adjusted the metal plates on his gloves, stretching his fingers through them.
“You can’t just leave me waiting up here.”
“Then go back.” Lethe replied.
“You promised me something I could take with me.”
Lethe didn’t respond, drawing his knife. He ran the blade over his arm and snatched his stopwatch.
He observed the stopwatch, counting the seconds as the wound healed on his arm. It healed slowly; Lethe checked the stopwatch impatiently. Taking a notepad from his belt, he wrote down the number, one in a series, marking his rate of healing. It seemed there was still quite a bit of Snake Bite in his blood. It kept his other nature at bay, but it also meant that his rate of healing was slow since it also restrained his mutation.
“What is it?” Cal prodded.
Lethe glanced at the Atlas on Cal’s belt before returning his stopwatch and blade to their rightful places.
“I can’t stop you from following me, but you’ll probably die,” Lethe said flatly.
Cal didn’t seem to absorb the reality of what Lethe was saying.
“I’m being serious, you know,” Lethe said, but Cal just nodded.
Lethe wondered if his own nonchalance betrayed him. He really did mean it. Death was imminent, but he wasn’t exactly sure howto communicate that beyond words. It wasn’t really in his nature to be incredibly expressive of fear or dread either.
“You really might die,” Lethe added, trying to add emphasis and unsure of where he was falling short.
“Okay. I get it,” Cal replied, sounding annoyed.
I don’t think so.“The moment I ask you to go back, you sprint. Understood?”
Cal nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes, I’ll listen.”
“Tie the horses up. Let’s go,” Lethe mumbled, rubbing his head as he walked off.
He started off as Cal rushed to secure the horses. Cal caught up with him after and seemed to shrink away at the brazen nature with which Lethe traveled the path toward the city. They walked in silence now, both sensing the danger as they approached the impending challenge.
Lethe warded off the compulsion to demand Cal leave with every step. If he did want to defeat Ivan Rowe, he could very well use Cal and his Atlas. They were something of a wildcard in the right circumstances.
Ivan had not been as brash as Amiel, nor as calculated as Peter, but Lethe didn’t know what the time in the Mystics had done to the Strike. He hardly knew if his old profile of Ivan could apply at all. Strike were very consistent. Peter, Amiel, and a couple of others had already lived for several centuries before the ROSE managed to burn them.
